Fuckin' Bored!
by ErisandDysnomia
Summary: It's St. Patrick's day, and boredom has attacked our favorite incarcerated twins! Nothing a little fanmail won't fix. Rated for language, and a very flamboyant neighbor in the next cell over. AU, probably, thanks kdk2013,ThisSideOrTheOther and Rickii101!


**Author's note!: In the spirit of St. Paddys, and my writers block, we give you this fun little one shot, because i was bored, and i couldn't really function enough to do anything else. and you know, i don't think this is as good as it could've been, but meh! Enjoy the stupidity :D**

**Dislaimer!: I don't own the BDS, and i really can't say any of this is factual...because i don't know how how prisions work, and i know that there's no way in hell that a warden would let connor and muprhy room together, and sorry for the slash attack ;]**

**oh, and i threw a sean patrick flanery reference for anyone interested! let me know if you catch it!**

**enjoy!**

There were 1,256 cracks in the cement in Murphy MacManus' cell. He knew this, because he'd counted them, almost fifty times.

Prison was so boring.

He rolled over on the slab of a mattress that he'd been given, and tried to do anything to occupy his mind. He was slowly running out of ideas. He lifted his foot and kicked the mattress above his. Connor MacManus groaned in reply.

"Da fuck do ye want now?"

"I'm bored Connor."

"And what do ye expect me ta do about it?"

"Bust my ass out so we can go get shit-faced!" Murphy whined. "I don't wanna spend St. Patrick's Day in prison!"

"We would've anyways." Murphy could hear the grin in his brother's voice. He growled.

"Don't make me any less bored!"

"Entertain yer own fuckin' self!" Connor moaned. There were some days when he though that prison was punishment for him specifically. Why else would God let him be trapped in a smaller then fuck cell with his hyperactive idiot of a brother. Christ!

Under his bed, Connor heard Murphy sigh. "Connor, we need ta do something! Celebrate! St. Paddy's is a big fuckin' deal!"

"How would ye like ta celebrate Murph? Should we go see if dat pretty Asian fellow a few cells over wants ta take ye out on a date?" Connor sniggered.

"Awh shut it ye dumb fuck." Murphy growled.

"I'D BE UP FOR IT!" A voice called down the hallway. Connor howled with laughter, as Murphy turned bright red and booked it towards his cell door.

"Don't get yer hopes up! It ain't happening!" he called down the hallway, then turned on his brother. "Fuck you! Do you realize what I now have to deal with!"

"Awh Murphy. Don't run from love."

"I'm goin' ta fuckin' kill ye Connor!" Murphy started towards his brother, but was stopped by a whistle. The hair on the back of Murphy's neck stood up. Oh God…Connor looked just as scared as he did.

"Evenin' Rosie." Connor managed a smile at the PREOP lesbian in her correctional officer get up. She was glaring daggers at them.

"Even now, you two pricks give me trouble."

"We never give ye trouble Rosie." Murphy smirked as he turned towards her. "Tis dat Asian fellow down the way. He won't stop bitchin' about how stupid ye are."

Rosie turned red as her temper flared.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THAT YOU IRISH QUEER!"

"DON'T BITCH AT ME PARISH! YE AND YER FAGGOTY ASS WAS ASKIN FER DIS LONG BEFORE I SENT IT TO YE!" Murphy yelled back. Oh yes, Murphy and Beauregard Parish did not get along.

"I'm sick of you two fuckers disturbing the other inmates!" Rosie glared at the Saints, who just shrugged.

"We're bored Rosie, we need ta entertain ourselves somehow ye know?" Connor sighed, flopping back down on his mattress. Rosie growled and tossed in a bag.

"Maybe that'll keep you fucking idiots busy. Now I'm going to go shut this floor up. If you two disturb shit again, I'm separating yer asses? Fucking understand?"

"Aye Rosie. Now why don't ye go check in with yer supervisor or something." Murphy rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag.

"Aye, den, would ye mind getting me a sandwich Rosie?" Connor sent her a shit eating grin. Rosie turned as red as her namesake, and stormed away from their cell. Murphy and Connor's laugher following her all the way.

"Awh Christ, yer evil." Murphy laughed as he fell back onto his bed.

"Aye, well, tis one of those things, it just never gets old." His grin stayed planted on his face. "So what've ye got dere?"

"Jesus Christ Connor, yer never going ta believe dis!" Murphy laughed. "It's fuckin' fanmail."

"Are ye fuckin' serious?"

"Aye." Murphy grabbed one of them and ripped it open.

**Saints-**

**Oh wow, I can't believe you guys got caught. That must suck, but since we finally have a chance to message you, there's something I wanted to ask you something. Where did you guys learn to shoot, cuz my dad's a cop right? And he says 'if there's one thing that can be said about the Saints, it's that they can shoot'. So where?**

Connor laughed. "Dey wanna know where we learned to shoot?"

"Aye."

"Who has nothing better to do wit dere time den ta pick apart our lives? Dat's kinda creepy."

"Aye a bit. But, ye know, give credit where credit is due. God bless Uncle Sibel and his sharpshooting ass." Murphy smiled.

"Aye, good ole' Uncle Sibel, and da good ole' IRA for getting him worked up enough ta think we'd need ta shoot da damn gun."

"Amen." Murphy smiled and grabbed another one.

**So, you two probably get this a lot, but we're all dying to know, who's older?**

"HA!" Murphy smiled. "Dat would be me!"

"Not even close." Connor scoffed.

"Are ye kiddin' me?" Murphy snorted and gestured towards his cock. "Macho Murph begs ta differ."

"…Macho Murph?"

"Ah don't even start wit' me, I know ye named yers too!"

"Genghis Conn is none of yer concern!"

"More like Chode Conn." Murphy snickered. "I'm fuckin' older."

"No ye ain't! Christ, we need someone ta settle this fer us!"

"Aye." Murphy shook his head.

"I'LL DO IT!"

"SHUT DA HELL UP PARISH!"

"Christ," Connor sighed. "Here, hand me one, I wanna see dis fer meself." Murphy handed him a stack of letters. "Seriously?" He stared at the pile he brought to himself. "This many people askin' questions about us?"

"Aye."

"Well, let's have a look-see."

**So, uh, wow, I wonder if you guys will even get this, but well, I want to know why one of you has 'Norman' tattooed on your chest**

"Holy shit!" Murphy cried. "How da fuck do dey know dat!"

"Beats the fuck outa me. But dey wanna know."

"Fuckin creepy they are!" Murphy shuddered. "And damn, poor ol' Norman. Dat old feller doesn't deserve ta have his name desecrated like dat. Da man practically raised us!"

"If ye didn't want his name desecrated, why'd ye tattoo in over yer fucking chest?"

"Heart! I swear ta God, symbolism is lost on ye." Murphy rolled his eyes. "Hey dis one's actually decent!"

**So, did you too always feel compelled to do this? Or would it never have crossed your minds if you hadn't gotten attacked by those Russians?**

"How in da holy hell did dey know dat?" Connor asked, leaning over the bed so he could see his brother. Murphy shrugged.

"Tis so fuckin' creepy!" he eyed the letter in his hand. "Do ye think we would've?"

"Christ, I don't know. We might've heard from God anyways, or we would've gotten up the next day, gone ta church, got bollixed, then gone home and repeated the cycle. Who fucking knows?"

"God." Murphy answered, and both boys crossed themselves. Connor sighed and opened another letter.

**Hey, I totally love you guys. Love everything you stand for, you wouldn't believe the following you have here. And we're all wondering, when will this be enough? When will you finally walk away?**

"Who da fuck's this 'we' they keep referencing?" Murphy asked. "Christ, dey probably have dis army built up or something."

"Aye." Connor snorted. "But, tis a valid question." he eyed his brother. "When will it be enough?"

"Aye, it's never goin' ta be enough, ye know dat as well as I do."

"Yeah," Connor sighed. "We're not coming out of this alive, are we?"

"Probably not. But hell, tis a good way to go."

"Aye, straight shot to Heaven."

"Oh Christ Conn, listen ta dis."

**Hello. We're contacting you on behalf of PETA, we understood that you took part in an activity that cost Skippy the cat his life. You two should be ashamed of yourselves! How dare you put an innocent animal at risk! What did that cat ever do to you!**

"We kill close ta forty people…and dey're upset over a cat?" Connor asked incredulous. Murphy snorted.

"They sent us four pages of hate!"

"Christ, keep dat. We'll fuckin' frame it when we get out of here!"

"Right over the fuckin' mantle!" the boys laughed.

Animal rights their ass.

"People are fuckin stupid, my dear brother."

"Aye, truer words never spoken."

**You mother fuckers deserve to die for what you've done! You dumb bastards! Why I oughta come there and wring your necks myself! How the fuck could you do something so stupid! You better hope you never get out of that cell, because the day that you do, you can be sure that I will make you regret the day you left!**

The boys stared in shock at the letter.

"Well…" Connor finally mumbled. "Looks like Ma found out where we are."

"Aye. Christ, we'd better never get the out of here. She'll fucking ream us."

"Better Ma found out when we're in prison. Dat why, she can't reach us."

"Aye, isn't dat da truth." Murphy smiled and slipped the letter under his pillow. "Com'n. Rip open another, this is wayyy too much fun."

"Alright, here ye go."

**So, I work in the insurance field, and well, I was wondering if you two had life insurance plans, and if they were worth a lot.**

"Fuckin' nosy bastards! Even in prison!" Connor cried. Murphy chewed on his nail.

"Do we have life insurance?"

"Aye, ye dumb fuck. We do."

"…So, how much would I get if ye were ta, I dunno, kick the bucket." Murphy smirked at Connor.

"Why, ye little bastard! After everythin' I've done for ye, ye go and ask me how much I'm worth! Awh fuck you Murphy!"

"Fuck you Connor! I was just asking!" Murphy held up his hands in defense. "Besides, ye know how much I'm worth!"

"Aye." Connor smirked. "And it's the only comfort I have if ye happen ta leave me."

"What da fuck, where's my comfort?"

"BABY, I'LL BE YOUR COMFORT, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ASK!" Beauregard called from his cell again.

Murphy turned pale as he stalked towards his cell door. "DON'T HOLD YER FUCKIN' BREATH PARISH! I'LL KICK YER ASS BEFORE YE EVEN GET CLOSE TA MINE!"

"I LOVE A CHALLENGE YOU BEEFY IRISHMAN!"

"Jesus Christ." Murphy pounded his head against his cell door. "The fuck is wrong with dat man."

"He's just mad dat yer being such a little betch." Connor adopted an incredibly gay voice and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Murphy. Murphy lifted his middle finger.

"Fuck you, where's the queer that's obsessed with you?"

"Rosie is." Connor grinned. "Couldn't ye tell?"

"Fuck you, open another one of those up." Murphy growled. Connor reached into the bag and pulled out another note.

**So, I'm supposed to be doing my Old Testament study guide right now, but this is more important. All of us boys at the Faustina Academy wanted to tell you that we TOTALLY support you guys, and you deserve the Saint name more then half the saints do! Oh shit-well a nun is coming so I gotta cut this short. Those women are evil, you know?**

"Lookit dat Murph!" Connor laughed. "We're fucking corruptin' an entire academy!"

"Aye! Ye know, I'm surprised dat they even got dat much written! When we were in school, those women wouldn't let us do shit!"

"Oh aye! And Sister Mary, Christ, she was insane!" Connor cringed. "Remember when she made us act out King Pest?" Murphy howled with laughter.

"Oh Christ! I had forgotten about that! She made ye stand in dat like, cardboard coffin! All fucking day!" Murphy fell to the ground laughing, and Connor glared at him. "Awh Christ, she was a fuckin' crazy woman. Man, you falling over in dat coffin is me favorite high school memory."

"Aye, and yer da asshat who wouldn't fuckin' help me up!"

"I would've, if I could've stopped laughing." Murphy shot his brother a grin. "Besides, I do believe dat worked out for ye."

"Aye." Connor's infamous shit eating grin cross his face. "Shaydin O'Tera. Spent two hours with her in dat coffin. Christ dat was a great lesson." Connor's eyes went far away. "Learned a lot from dat teacher's aide."

"Christ." Murphy rolled his eyes. "It's always about fuckin' sex with ye, isn't it."

"Aye." Connor winked. "A'course it is."

"Just open another one, yer disgusting." Murphy laughed from where he had settled on the ground. Connor stared at him. "What? I got comfy."

"Fuckin' freak." Connor growled and opened the next letter. His eyes scanned the page maybe four times before he became a sickly green color. "Jesus!"

"What?"

"Nothin." Connor blushed and crumpled up the paper. "Tisn't important."

"Connor, what is it?"

"Nothin' Murphy!"

"Fuckin' bullshit!"

"Just let it go!"

"Like fuck!" Murphy growled and launched himself at his brother. Connor flew back into the cement wall, and he growled. Connor popped his knuckles and slammed them into his brother's face. A no holds barred brawl instantly erupted.

"Mother fucker!"

"Ass kissing-"

"Bitch ass-"

"Mick fagg-"

"Cock suckin-"

"YOU RANG?"

"SHUT DA FUCK UP!" The brothers cried from where they were fighting. Connor was in a headlock, and Murphy was chocking him more. Connor coughed, and Murphy smirked.

"Hand it over, and I'll let ye go."

"Fuck…you." Connor wheezed.

"Ah. Ah. Ah!" Murphy squeezed tighter. Connor's vision grew black spots, and he released the letter from his hand. Murphy let go of his brother as he snatched up the paper.

**Dear Saint Brothers.**

**So me, and several of my teenage girl friends have been sitting around for days and wondering if you two are into 'slash' now if you don't understand our terminology, we just want to know how **_**close**_** you two are. And if you're willing to share a few details of that, then well, please, by all means do share! Thank you!**

**Love, Way Too Many Teenage Girls**

Murphy read the note again and again. "What the fuck? I don't get it." he stared at Connor with a confused look on his face. Connor weighed his options…

"Ye don't wanna know Murphy. Trust me."

"No Conn, come on! I don't get it at all!"

Connor groaned, then knelt over and whispered into Murphy's ear.

Murphy's eyes went wide as plates, and his jaw hit the floor. He looked at Connor in shock and horror.

"OH MY GOD! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS! PEOPLE _LIKE _THAT? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! THAT'S MORE FUCKED UP THEN ANYTHING WE'VE EVER DONE! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! WHAT KINDA WORLD IS IT WHEN TEENAGER GIRLS SIT AROUND WONDERING WHAT BROTHER'S DO TO EACHOTHER? JESUS FUCKING-SHIT! FUCK!" he cried, grabbing his head. Connor laughed.

"Ye look like ye mind was just blown!"

"Fuckin' was! Christ Almighty! Yuck!"

"Well, ye still bored Murphy?" Connor held up the bag of letters they hadn't opened. Murphy swallowed.

"Worst fuckin' St. Patrick's day. Ever."

**So there you go! Happy st. paddy's from Eris! and please drop a review ;]**


End file.
